ontario blueberries (a north dakota poem) --------------------------------------------------------- small warm and squishy not the market-bought lasted past minot north dakota land-huddling airborne death sitting bulls -- gray gaggle parked to kill -- in herringbone runwayed long -- looped in razor-wire oblique to guard towers ancient fossil fish deep in the shiny golden heart of amber america home of the brave we've already paid for this -- defending -- open skies open land open road and by the north atlantic treaty specifically the french and indian girl who sold me ontario her fat mother fat aunt wore polyester lasted past the vaguely sioux-mouthed warm and comely ranger blonde border patrol's gift of red-and-white pin in her olive cotton blouse signing me into the icelandic state park after dark lasted past the woman who brought two teen daughters from grand forks they were my laughing my camping my neighbors next day softly recounting on the curb home mud red river water past lake sakakawea by any other name the golden-grassed silver-blued missouri wet-eyed from the northern hilltop this would be belden -- south of stanley past the indian college alternative radio of new town back in the blueberries: on a hot ontario day a dark and tan shiny shy black of ponytail french and indian girl the kind they fought the 49th-parallel wars about when claimed by hollywood she will play lois lane back here: bluffs rocks ponds -- williston lies ahead a sea of going to the sun -- shining blade on shining the french and indian girl girlfalls west of kenora east of winnipeg the blueberry girl of the trees is the blueberry girl of the bushes is selling forest by the pot is watching tv now is probably oblivious to the blades of sweetgrass is oblivious to smudging and she too is wearing plastic Marek Lugowski 24 September 1997 Chicago, Illinois [rewrite 2 October] [rewrite 13 January 1998]